All Fall Down
by Raine Ito
Summary: In his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends defeated Voldemort, killed him for good. But when a living death eater revives him in the form of an old diary, he remembers a red haired girl he once knew, and sets out to find her. Harry, Hermi, and R
1. Prologue

Title: All Fall Down(Prologue/?)  
Author: Rebecca DeCiel  
Author Email: tigerdawn@cox.rr.com  
Category: Romance, Drama, Angst, Action  
Keywords: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Draco, Ginny, Percy, Penelope, Fleur, Tom Riddle, romance, miracles  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13, for some mild swearing and Fleuriness  
Summary: In the gang's fifth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort was defeated. But when a surviving death-eater resurrects him through his childhood diary, Tom Riddle rises again. But this time, he isn't just after Harry. Now, he wants both him...and a red-haired girl of several years ago, who he had and lost. Percy becomes youngest Minister of Magic, Draco struggles with himself and finds friendship in the oddest places, while Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny face challenges they could never hope to combat alone. Something for the whole family, and more 'ships than you could shake a stick at.  
Disclaimer: Story is based on characters and situations created by the almighty JK Rowling, as well as publishers including Scholastic Books, Raincoast books, and Bloomsbury books, just to name a few. I am in no way profiting from any of this, except that it helps ease me back into sanity. Nor am I trying to steal or infringe on Ms. Rowling's ideas. Thank you.  
Author's Note: I love Ron. Join the WORS! Worshippers of Ron Society! Ok, now that that's out of the way...on to the story!  
  
  
  
  
  
The darkened, dusty room was the most inviting thing he'd ever seen. The smell of mold and illness that drifted all around, the way the only beam of sunlight seemed cut into a thousand pieces by the shadows, the still and the quiet, and the waiting, the air of something, someone holding it's breath, and waiting for the deed to be done. He was safe here, for the only few minutes he needed now to avenge everything, his entire life's work about to cultivate in this one moment.   
  
A glint of light flashed off his silver hand, causing him to flinch away from it involuntarily. No, he thought, staring it down, I will not turn from the light. It's over now, it's all over, the suffering and the pain, he thought, because he will bring me to the eternity I wished for. Yes, it'll all be over soon, but I'll have won. The world may never even know my name, but I'll have won, because I did this, it is my triumph, my purpose, my rebellion against the inevitable.  
  
He inserted a hand slowly into his pocket, leaving it there for a few tense moments before removing it again, clasped around a small leather-bound book, with a large sewn place in the center where a tear appeared to have once been. "I'll have won," he whispered, and cast the book down on the floor, stepping back as a huge puff of putrid green smoke erupted all around it.  
  
"Leverus," he whispered, his hand trembling, from fear, and triumph, and so much fear. "LEVERUS!" He shouted, louder, his voice shaking but his hands steady now, as he raised his wand clutched tightly in his left hand, and pointed it at the book.  
  
An involuntary cry escaped his lips as the entire book caught fire, blazing green and gold in a magical inferno the kind of which he'd never seen before. Instead of melting away in the heat, the book began to lift slowly into the air, then flickered in and out of existence, slowly, then faster, faster, faster until it was a blur of brown and green and black, and then was gone altogether.  
  
In its place stood a tall dark haired boy, somewhere in his teenage years, though the look in his eyes, calculating, sinister, gave him away. This was no boy at all, not by the way he seemed to be laughing at the world in his cruel eyes, no by the way he stood, tall and overbearing, as if he knew exactly everything that was and would be.  
  
"Wormtail..." he whispered, but it wasn't really a whisper, as it echoed around the entire chamber. "So...you have come back to me after all."  
  
"Master!" And Wormtail bowed low, touching his nose to the ground and smiling inwardly and shivering at the same time. "Master..."  
  
The boy smiled, nodded to Wormtail, who stood up, his smile widening, one hand outstretched towards his Master. Raising a hand as if to accept the other, the boy thrust it outwards, a wand appearing there, seemingly out of nowhere. "Avada Kedavra." Wormtail fell face forward, the smile not leaving his face as the life left his body and traveled forward, drifting away into those broken shadows.  
  
"Thank you, Wormtail," the boy said, kicking him aside with one foot as he walked forward. "You've served your purpose now...I always knew you'd come through for me." He raised his head to the window, where the sunlight was drifting in, and scowled. "Now, it's my turn..."  
  
"Tom Riddle's coming, Harry Potter..."  
  
  
(This concludes the short but sweet Prologue.) 


	2. The Youngest Ever Minister of Magic

Title: All Fall Down(1/?)  
Author: Rebecca DeCiel  
http://pub79.ezboard.com/umiowmiow.showPublicProfile?language=EN  
  
  
At the burrow, Percy Weasley's party was in full swing. Thank god for Penelope, thought the redheaded Hogwarts graduate, watching from his vantage point at the kitchen table, as his beloved fiancée floated around the room, laughing and talking to the various relatives and friends that had come to wish him well. He'd never been all that social, had never really known that all these people cared about him, and didn't know how to take it. But Penny guided him through the steps, helped him greet the newcomers, and suggested which desserts to try first. Without her, he didn't know where he'd be.  
  
"I'd like to propose a toast," someone said, and Percy turned around to see his father, Arthur Weasley standing up. Slowly, the talk died down, and all heads turned to watch. Arthur smiled. "I'd like to propose a toast to my son, Percy Weasley, the youngest ever Minister of Magic!" Everyone cheered. Percy hid his face in his sleeve.  
  
"May he have a long and prosperous life," piped up Penelope, giving him a one armed hug.  
  
"May our country survive his reign," George whispered loudly to Fred.   
  
"May he learn to have some fun! Life's too short, enjoy it before it's over," said Charlie, elbowing Percy in the ribs and grinning widely.  
  
"TO PERCY!" Everyone chorused, clinked their glasses, and the talk started up again. Percy managed to squeeze away from the group, dragging Penny with him. They walked over into a deserted corner, and Percy shook his head, his face bright red.  
  
"Honestly, Penny, this is ridiculous. All these people...and I think Bill's getting drunk," he finished, looking across the room to where his oldest brother was flirting outrageously with Charlie's wife, who was looking quite amused with the whole situation.  
  
Penny laughed. "You deserve it, you've been working so hard lately. Why don't you just loosen up and have some fun? Isn't that your cousin Antigone over there? Let's go say hello."  
  
"No, wait!" Percy couldn't help chuckling, as he slid his arms around Penny. "Let me be for just a moment, then we can go humor the relatives. I haven't had a peaceful moment all evening..."  
  
But at that moment, there was a large crash, and both Percy and Penelope turned to see a small table had been overturned, and Bill was standing next to it, looking sheepish. Charlie laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder, leading him away and over to the sofa. "Bill, you're drunk. Come, come sit down."  
  
"Yeah...yeah...sure...m'coming...hey!" He turned and smiled at a girl from Percy's year at Hogwarts, who gave him an odd look and moved away. Charlie chuckled again. "Come on, Bill...she's too young for you, anyway."  
  
"Eh?" Asked Bill, letting himself be led away. Percy shook his head.   
  
"Where's Ginny?" He asked suddenly, looking around. "I haven't seen her all evening..."   
  
"She wasn't feeling well," said Penelope. "She was here earlier, said she had a headache and went off to bed. Maybe she'll come down later, although it's probably better that she's not here," and Penny giggled, gesturing to where was now seated. "Come on, Antigone looks like she's coming over here."  
  
"Oh no," muttered Percy, releasing his hold on Penny, "Just when I was settling in..."  
  
***  
  
Ginny sat in bed listening to the commotion downstairs. Sighing, she rolled over, and watched out the window as the owls of the various guests flitted around, waiting for their owners to come and retrieve them. A stab of pain shot through her forehead, and she lay back again, blowing out a long, frustrated breath. "Perfect," she muttered to herself, "Just what I need, to get sick the day before I go off to school again."   
  
Closing her eyes, Ginny tried to sleep, but to no avail. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw a green flash, and felt sick to her stomach. She thought of asking her parents to take her to the doctor the next day, but she didn't want to worry them too much. They were already frazzled about sending Percy off on his own. It had been quite amusing, listening in on their conversations with him about his future.  
  
"Now, Percy, you will be careful, won't you? With Penelope, I mean."  
  
"MOM!!" She'd peered around the door, and saw him blushing redder than she'd ever seen him, even when he'd been caught kissing Penny in his sixth year. Ginny approved of Percy's choice, and she liked the tall, dark haired girl, and her quick wit and ringing laugh. She saw the way Percy looked at her all the time; the way his whole face changed and he didn't look so unapproachable anymore.  
  
I wonder if I'll ever find someone for me like that, Ginny thought, hearing Harry's voice from downstairs. Someone who can make me smile like that, someone who really cares about me. Harry...well, he was just a crush, a passing fancy, she was sure of that. And he'd never even look twice at her...he'd never seen her as more than his best friend's sister. None of the boys of her year had shown any interest in, really. She'd gone to the Yule ball with Neville Longbottom, who couldn't get anyone else to go with him. He was a sweet boy, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. Ginny needed someone she could have a real conversation with.  
  
There had only been one time when she'd felt like she had someone who she could really talk to that way...but of course, she hadn't known the true power...and he hadn't really understood her after all, had he? He was just a memory...  
  
Shaking her head, Ginny rolled over again, and tried one more time to fall asleep.  
  
***  
  
When no one was looking, Percy and Penelope snuck upstairs, away from the tumult of the happy guests. "Are they ever going to go home?" Asked Percy, watching as Fred and George slipped a canary crème into their grandfather's soup.   
  
Penny punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You should be grateful for all this," she admonished, giving him a wry look. "They mean well, anyway."  
  
Percy sighed, and smiled. "Yes, I suppose. But really, do they expect this to help me? I have to go to my first day of work tomorrow, and it's a good thing I didn't have anything to drink, or I'd be hung over. As it is I'll have no energy, and making a good impression is so important, and-!"  
  
Penny kissed him, cutting him off. "Shut up," she suggested, dragging him upstairs. "That's tomorrow, this is today, live for the moment for once." Pulling him into his room, she shut the door and sat him in a chair, touching her lips to his forehead. "I'm really proud of you, Perc," she said quietly, grinning. "I always knew you could do it."  
  
They didn't see the man, cloaked in forest green, hovering outside the window as the stood there together. By the time they heard the window shatter it was too late.  
  
***  
  
A loud crash boomed through the house, and Ginny sat up straight in bed, staring around the room. Ignoring the pain in her head, she crawled out of bed, crossed the room, and opened the door, looking up and down the hall, but saw nothing unusual. The talking downstairs continued, and for a moment Ginny thought perhaps Bill had broken another table. But it had been much louder than that...  
  
Walking down the hall to Percy's room, Ginny knocked on the door. There was no answer. "Percy? Perc, are you there? Lemme in, its Ginny...come on, Perc..." She felt a chill creep down her spine, and she shivered, biting her lip and opening the door very slightly, to make sure she wasn't intruding on anything she didn't want to see. Seeing no one, she opened the door wider, walked in, and gasped.  
  
The far window was broken, pieces of glass scattered all over the windowsill and the floor. Careful not to step on any of them, she made her way over the hole in the wall where it had been, and noticed something lying on the ground, glittering entirely unlike the glass lying all around it. Bending to pick it up, she found herself holding Penny's silver necklace, the one Percy had given her for her birthday.  
  
"Penny..." she whispered, her eyes widening in horror. "Penny...Percy? PERCY!"  
  
  
**************  
  
  
The noisy little downtown café was quite a change for Draco Malfoy, sitting at a table by the enchanted fountain, which broke into song every ten or so minutes. It was so unlike his home, without the unbreakable silence, without the dark hangings and dark atmosphere and dark...well, dark everything. He found himself coming here often lately, to escape his father's air of constant driving purpose. Everything moved so quickly there, step after step like an equation that had to be completed by a certain date. Here, it was all so peaceful, even though it was loud and gaudy. It was the kind of peaceful that provided one with a place to think, to ease away from the tension of everyday life, the tension Draco experienced every day. He loved this place, because it gave him space to breathe.  
  
The little bells on the door tinkled to announce the arrival of a new customer, and the owner rushed over to greet them, as he greeted everyone. He always greeted everyone...even Draco, which Draco himself found surprising. Everywhere he went, people shrank away from him, or, rather, from his name, that of Malfoy. He was a celebrity too, in a way, he thought bitterly, purposelessly swishing his water around in his glass. He was the one they all feared, the one they all hated but refused to show. The owner here didn't know him, didn't know his father. And here, he could be someone his father never imagined him to be, Draco Malfoy...Draco Malfoy, the normal 17-year-old boy. Not a death eater's son, not a symbol of dark wizards, but a boy, just trying to get along like the rest of the world.  
  
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear the newcomer approach his table, or lay a hand gently on the back of his chair.   
  
"Monsieur Malfoy...eet 'as been a long time, no?"  
  
Draco whirled around, startled, and saw a tall figure, vaguely familiar, though he couldn't really match her face with a name. Long golden hair fell around her face, the face that was set with perfect red lips, baby blue eyes, and a wryly-amused expression, placid on the beautiful features.  
  
"Who...?" He shook himself inwardly, becoming composed. "What do you want?" It came out with a sneer, haughty and hateful, the way his father always wanted him to be, had always trained him to be. No, he thought, angry with himself, this isn't who I am. "Who are you?" He tried again, calmer, milder.  
  
The lips parted into a smile, the eyebrows arched. "You do not remember me? Ah am insulted, Monsieur Malfoy. Try to remember."  
  
Perplexed and slightly annoyed, Draco stared at her for a long time. Then, slowly something bubbled up from the back of his mind, something concerning his fourth year at Hogwarts...and Harry Potter.  
  
"You're...that French girl...Fleur Delacour..."  
  
The smile widened. "Oui, zat ah am. Zat ah am."  
  
Draco nodded, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. What did she want here? Instead, he asked, "What are you doing back in the country?"  
  
"Ah." Uninvited, Fleur took the seat opposite Draco, and leaned both elbows on the table. "When ah graduated from Beauxbatons, ah took a job 'ere, working for Madam Malkin, and 'er robe shop." She chuckled musically, raising her eyes. "Zese British robes...zey are so...old fashioned. In France, we 'ave many other nice styles."  
  
Drumming his fingers on the table, Draco stared blankly at her. Fleur nodded, continued to smile. "You must be wondering why ah am 'ere to speak to you."  
  
"Yes," Draco said, letting out a long breath. "Yes, that would be a fair statement."  
  
"Very well," Fleur replied, looking him directly in the eye. She held his eyes for a long time, giving Draco the chilling sense that she could see straight into his soul. Fidgeting with his water glass, he stared at the table, at the ground, at the ceiling, at anything but her. After a long time, she shrugged.  
  
"Ah just wanted to say 'ello. Goodbye, Monsieur Malfoy." Then she stood up, and swept away, leaving Draco hopelessly confused.  
  
***  
  
When Draco trudged up to the front door of Malfoy Manor several hours later, the houself, Tilly, let him in. "Do you know where my father is?" He asked her.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, is in the study, Mr. Malfoy, sir," squeaked the elf. "I is seeing him there only a few minutes ago."   
  
"Thanks," muttered Draco, stepping around the elf and her washcloth, becoming Draco, Lucius Malfoy's son again. "Father?" He called out, opening the door to the study and peering inside.  
  
"Yes, Draco, come in. There's something we have to discuss." Lucius Malfoy was sitting in his chair, illuminated by the dim light his wand was projecting, hovering one or two feet above his head. "Well, come in," he repeated, when Draco hesitated in the doorway.  
  
Once Draco was inside, Lucius closed the door, and turned to face his son. A slow smile spread across his face, but, Draco noticed, it did not reach his eyes. "Well, son," he said, but it was really more of a whisper, "You're almost a man. Your last year at that abominable school starts tomorrow...and it's time for you to start thinking about your future."  
  
Oh no, Draco thought, oh no. He'd dreaded this discussion since the day on the year before, the day he realized that he wasn't content to be Lucius Malfoy's spawn, that he wanted to be his own person, and lead his own life. He knew what was going to be asked of him, and he knew that he would have to respond favorably towards it, though it was the last thing in the world, now, that he wanted.  
  
"You could become," Lucius continued, unaware of Draco's misgivings, "anything, anything at all that you could possibly want to be." You mean, thought Draco, anything you want me to be. "You could be powerful, my son. More powerful than anyone else, the most powerful wizard in the world...with the help of the training you have received from me...and the training you will receive, again from me, and others also. Others, wondered Draco, what others?  
  
"Everything you desire, you could have. Everything you wished, you could do. Does this not sound good to one as educated as you?" Draco wanted to yell, to say that he wanted no part of his father's dealings with the deepest of dark arts. Ever since Voldemort had been defeated, Lucius had seemed to fancy his son as the powerful Dark Lord's successor. But Draco wanted none of it, none at all. "Well?" Lucius was waiting.  
  
"I...would be honored," Draco heard himself saying, "To accept such training." No, no this was all wrong! But he couldn't bring himself to utter the words, not to his father, the one man he feared above any other. Why should I fear my father, he wondered? "Good," Lucius replied, again with that smile that did not reach his eyes. "Very good. Then, you will be ready to accept what I am about to tell you." There's more, thought Draco, oh gods.  
  
"Today, I had a visitor," and now Lucius's voice was even quieter than before. "A visitor who I never expected to see again, nostalgic of my childhood, and my days at Hogwarts." Another death eater, perhaps? "Today...Tom Riddle came to see me." Lucius's face was shining.  
  
"Tom Riddle?" Draco was confused again. "But...I don't understand...who..?"  
  
"Stupid boy! Tom Riddle...a boy I went to school with, a boy who did great and terrible things..." Lucius trailed off, and Draco gasped.   
  
"T-tom Riddle...Tom...Vold...Volde..."  
  
"Say it," urged his father, heat in his voice, "Say the name...for only when you say the name can you truly become part of it, part of us..."  
  
"Voldemort..." And Draco knew that, two years before, this would have been the best news in the world to him and all his family. But now, it only scared him out of his mind. Voldemort had returned. And he wanted the Malfoys as his servants. 


	3. The Chamber Again

Title: All Fall Down (2/?)  
Author: Rebecca DeCiel  
http://pub79.ezboard.com/umiowmiow.showPublicProfile?language=EN  
  
Molly Weasley sat next to the broken window, surrounded by red-cloaked ministry wizards of the crisis squad. "I don't understand, I didn't even hear anything," she kept seeing, tears streaming down her face. "They just went upstairs for a moment, and the next thing I knew, my daughter Ginny came running downstairs crying that the window was broken, and my son and his fiancée were missing! There isn't any more I can tell you!" Burying her face in her hands, she shook her head. "Where could they be..."  
  
Outside the door, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger comforted an anxious Ron. "Stupid bloke probably tripped and fell right through the window," Ron muttered. Harry and Hermione exchanged meaningful looks. They knew Ron was really worried, no matter what he said.  
  
"Really, Ron, I'm sure he's fine, honestly! I mean, the Minister of Magic can probably take care of him self, can't he?" Hermione attempted to sound light hearted.  
  
Ron shook his head, pounding his fist into his other hand in a frustrated gesture. "That's just it about Percy, he thinks he can take on the world. He doesn't know the first thing about self-defense without his wand, and he quails when faced with real danger. Damn it," Ron said, biting his lip.  
  
"I just don't understand, who would want to hurt or kidnap Percy?" Hermione was shaking her head in bemusement. Harry snorted.  
  
"Anyone who wants to manipulate the ministry, or didn't like the previous minister. Percy's got a big important role in the wizard world now, all kinds of people could want him for various reasons." He sounded tired. "We don't have a clue about where he is...he could be anywhere...but why did they want Penelope, too?"  
  
"Dunno," muttered Ron, staring at the floor. "She was there, they probably didn't want any witnesses, so they had to take her too. Probably end up killing her, if they just wanted Percy."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione stood up, and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Don't talk like that, we've no idea what's going on, we can't assume. I'm sure Percy and Penny will be just fine! Anyway, Percy doesn't know anything, doesn't know any ministry secrets, he hasn't even been inaugurated yet! They'll probably realize that and send him back!"  
  
"Unlikely," Ron said to the floor. "Why send him back, he'll know too much. They'll have to dispose of him."  
  
"You've been reading far too many of those comic books, lately," Hermione admonished with a wag of her finger. "No one's going to 'dispose' of Percy. Who knows, maybe he'll be able to give them what they want and be set free! I'm tired of all this pessimism, I'm going to get a drink. Would you two like anything?"  
  
"I'm fine," said Harry, and Ron didn't speak. Casting one quick and worried glance over Ron, Hermione walked down the stairs and out of sight.  
  
"She's wrong, you know," Ron said when she was gone. "She doesn't want to say it, and she knows she's wrong."  
  
"Wrong about what?" Harry asked.  
  
"Percy's not all right, how could he be all right if he was kidnapped! I bet it's something from the dark wizards, you-know-who's bunch-!"  
  
"Voldemort's dead, Ron." Harry shook his head. "He can't come back to power now, he's dead, dead and gone."  
  
"Yeah...but he's got all kinds of followers, death eaters and such, still at large! There could be all kinds of people who want to continue his ways! And a new minister of magic is the best way to do it, to get a hand into the government! I bet it's the Malfoys, they've always been rotten, Draco, his father, the whole-!"  
  
"RON." Harry's firm voice stopped Ron's monologue, and Ron turned to look at him. "We've got absolutely no proof that this had anything to do with any former death eaters, or, in fact, any proof that it was a kidnapping."  
  
"What else could it be?" Ron asked, his voice raising. "I mean, do you honestly think he just decided to break open the window or something? It has to be kidnap!"  
  
Harry shrugged, trying to keep his frustration down. Ron was worried, it was normal, there was no reason for Harry to lash out at him, especially not now. "I'm not saying you're wrong, but we can't be sure. We can't start jumping to conclusions about everything before we've got any knowledge at all."  
  
"You've changed, Harry..." Ron looked up at his friend, a puzzled expression on his face, still tinged with concern. "It used to be all gung-ho, let's-go-get-him. You're turning into too much of a thinker, like Hermione. What happened to the Harry that was always willing to check things out, even if we didn't have much proof?"  
  
Harry sighed, thinking, yes, I have changed. I've changed a lot, Ron, and entirely for the better. But even that he couldn't be sure of. He remembered the days when they used to parade around the school after midnight, in the invisibility cloak. He remembered how all three of them had combated the Dark Lord, brought his final downfall in their fifth year, how they had rallied the whole school together, even when the ministry refused to help. But Harry had lost something in that battle, something known as Cho Chang. She'd sacrificed herself for the cause, for the country, for the wizard world. He'd seen her smile as she faced death, how she knew she was going to die, and how she knew it was going to be all right. But it wasn't all right...and since, he'd never been quite the same. Her death had hit him hard, harder than he would have thought. He never really got to know her...but he always looked up to her, admired her as a quidditch player, and a person, and a girl. He'd been more cautious ever since, but he missed those days...  
  
"Yeah," he heard himself saying, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "I know."  
  
Ron's face softened, and he put an arm out to touch Harry's. "Hey, I'm sorry...I'm just worried, that's all...'s not your fault..."  
  
Hermione came back at that moment, with glasses of punch for all of them, and they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.  
  
************  
  
When Penelope awoke, she couldn't breathe. Unable to scream, she stared wildly around, seeing nothing but blackness, an unending void of absolute nothing. Finding she could stand, she tried to run, but smacked hard into some unseen barrier in front of her. She tried the opposite direction, with the same effect. Help me, she tried to call, but again, no sound came out. Leaning against the invisible wall, Penelope felt her last morsels of oxygen being used up, as her eyelids slowly drooped forward. Percy...  
  
Suddenly, she was falling, the wall was gone, and everything was thrown into startlingly bright light. Her lungs gave way, and she was breathing, sucking in a long, starving breath, before gazing around through now functional eyes from her vantage point, sprawled prostrate on the ground. She discovered that the room was not brightly lit at all, but dim. Her eyes had only seen it as bright in contrast the pitch black of blindness.  
  
Staring around at her surroundings, Penelope found herself in an old room, with very little furniture. The lighting was pale green, eerie, and she could hear quiet noises, like something sliding through the dust caking the floor. "Percy..." she whispered, afraid to call out, for fear of awaking or startling whatever had caused her to be here. Then, "Percy!" louder, when he didn't respond.   
  
Nothing stirred for a long time, and the noises ceased. Penelope slowly hauled herself to her feet, and took a few careful, staggering steps across the room. How did I get here? Where was I...she couldn't remember. All she knew was that she had to find Percy, that somehow, finding him would bring it all back, would make it all clear. "Percy!" She called again.   
  
Then, someone was standing in front of her, someone who she knew had not been standing there a moment before. "Percy," she called, relieved, but then stopped, as her beloved swayed back and forth, then slowly crumpled to the floor. Rushing forward, she lifted his face, and saw, to her horror, that it wasn't Percy at all. Penelope recoiled, as the faceless thing that wasn't Percy melted away into a tiny black snake, and slithered away out of sight.  
  
"So...you've escaped from my little surprise, have you? Hmm...quicker than I thought, very impressive, but alas, not quick enough to get away." Still kneeling on the ground, Penelope snapped her head around to see a tall dark haired boy, draped in green robes, with a sneer on his face that reminded her remotely of a face she'd seen once before, but on no such person. The situation came back to her, then, standing in the bedroom with Percy, the window breaking, a pounding sensation in her head, and a swirl...a swirl of green robes...  
  
"What do you want with me?" She stumbled to her feet, backed against the far wall. "Why did you bring me here? And where's Percy?" The boy laughed, a high piercing laugh that rang in her eardrums.   
  
"Don't worry, you'll see your precious boy in a few moments...he's undergoing some...ah...testing..." He laughed again, malicious, and she took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing.  
  
"What have you done to him? Take me to Percy!" Rage overtook her. Who was this person, to simply take her out of her home like this? She went to draw her wand, but found that it was gone. Looking up into the boy's face, she saw him smiling that putrid sneer again.   
  
"Ah, yes...can't have you turning me into a toad, now, can we? Not that you'd be able to...Ah, and here's your Percy now..." Penelope turned, looked, and gasped.  
  
It was undoubtedly her fiancée who stumbled in, but his face was haggard, and his eyes were hollow. "Penny," he croaked, and she saw a slight glint of the old light in his eyes. He walked two paces, tripped, and fell into her waiting arms, laying his head against her shoulder in complete exhaustion. She saw that he was bleeding from one shoulder.  
  
"What have you done to him?!" She roared, wanting to hurl herself at this antagonist, though unable to let go of Percy. "What do you want?!"  
  
The boy snapped, and a large green armchair appeared out of nowhere. He sat, beckoning Penelope closer with one lazy hand. She felt her feet moving of their own will, felt Percy drift out of her arms and towards the chair. "No," she whispered, but could not fight it. This isn't the imperius, she thought, horror struck, this is something else entirely. Good lord, what is this boy?  
  
"There, don't be shy," he said mildly, gesturing at the ground in front of him. "Go on, sit. Sit, I said," and he waved the hand at her, causing her to suddenly thud the floor, Percy alongside her. "There, that's better. Now, to business." He drummed his long, thin fingers on the arm of the chair, staring off into space for a moment. "I've brought you both here...because there's a little task I'd like you to do for me."  
  
Penelope spat. "And this is how you get us to do you a favor? By kidnapping us?"   
  
"Ah...now," said the boy admonishingly. "Quiet, dear." And he waved a hand. Penelope's mouth seized up, and she flailed wildly, trying to convey her anger, but unable to speak.  
  
"Yes, where was I...ah, yes...now, your purpose. I have no intention of keeping you here, none at all, and I'll send you home all healed and repaired. All I ask...well, it's quite simple, really." And he chuckled that horrible laugh again. "All I ask is that you bring me a certain girl, one Ginny Weasley..."  
  
Percy's head snapped up, his eyes flamed. "Ginny? What do you want with Ginny? You leave her alone, she's got nothing to do with anything, she's just an innocent little-!"  
  
"I assure you," said the boy loudly, "She will not be harmed in any way. I just want to...well," and he stopped, "that doesn't matter. She will not be harmed, everything will be perfectly all right...just...bring her to me...to talk, yes, to talk. That's all."  
  
Percy glowered. "Never. I don't know who you are, but the ministry will hear of this, that you can be sure of. My whole family will be looking for us, they're bound to find you. And you leave my sister alone! Don't touch her, do you hear me?" Penelope put a hand on his arm, staring at him hard. Stop, she thought frantically, we're not in a position to fight!  
  
The boy looked at them for a long time, as if calculating their worth to him. "Very well," he said quietly, "I see you need some convincing." Again, he raised his hand, and gestured at Percy, the mild expression not leaving his face. "Cruciatus," he said, with the air of someone making a perfectly reasonable point, and Penelope's mind whirled.  
  
Percy was suddenly seized with convulsions, he doubled over in pain, clutching his legs, his arms, his sides, in too much agony even to speak, or to scream. "Penny..." he managed to gasp out.   
  
Finding she could speak, she cried out "Percy! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" And tried to struggle towards him, but found herself locked in place by one of the curses put upon her. She was forced to watch as Percy, bleeding from several places, screamed silently, his mouth hanging open, his eyes hollow again...and then collapsed, completely broken, to the ground.  
  
"I did warn you," whispered the boy, a slow smile spreading across his face as Penelope looked on in horror. "Perhaps now, you will...reconsider?"   
  
"Never," muttered Percy, in a barely audible voice, causing the boy's eyebrows to raise.  
  
"Never, you say? Are you sure? I thought I made a rather convincing argument, myself." Percy said nothing, and the boy shrugged. He raised his hand again, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and shaking his head. "If you insist...I had thought you'd be more sensible than this, really...she's just a girl, after all...I'll tell you again, then..."  
  
"NO!" Screamed Penny, "NO! STOP IT! PLEASE...please..."  
  
But it was too late. Percy rolled over on the ground, and Penelope screamed, and screamed, and screamed...  
  
"Help us, someone! Please...help us...Percy!" She tried to reach him, tried to fight the curse, but it was useless. The hollow laugh echoed around the dusty room again, and she turned to find the boy shaking his head in mild amusement.  
  
"There's no one to help you, foolish girl. We're all alone here, you, me, and your precious boy, though it'll likely be only the two of us if he doesn't give up on this foolish pretense and tell me where the girl is...unless...you'd like to enlighten me." Abruptly the torture stopped, Percy sagged, the curse was broken, and Penelope rushed forward, cradled Percy's head in her arms, saw his eyes close, checked to make sure he was still breathing. "Don't...tell him," Percy muttered. "I know...he's...Ginny...don't tell him..." And he blacked out.  
  
Penelope, completely torn, looked up into the cruel eyes of their tormentor, and slowly shook her head, taking a deep breath, and steeling herself against the wall. "No..." she whispered.  
  
"No?" He closed his eyes, sighed like someone undergoing a painfully tedious encounter, and muttered, "Cruciatus."   
  
  
  
(This concludes Chapter Two.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
" 


	4. Thetis

The Hogwarts great hall was filled with happily chatting people, creating a loud babbling uproar over which no one could hear, causing them to shout even louder to make themselves noticed. Harry sat at the front of the Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione. He watched as Ron turned and gave a furtive look at Percy's empty seat before returning tired eyes to the stage in front of them. Shaking his head, he looked over at Hermione, who was chewing her lip nervously.   
  
"The sorting ceremony should start soon," he said, feeling stupid. He couldn't find anything to fill the silence in their heads, couldn't concentrate on the crowd noise. He felt like was screaming and no one could hear him, but he knew it was pointless to try and comfort Ron any more. He watched as Professor McGonagall walked to the center of the room, and slowly the talk died down, allowing her to speak. She was followed up the steps to the stage by a trailing line of nervous looking first years, whispering to each other and staring around at all the people out of wide eyes. He knew the feeling well.  
  
"Goodman, Brenda," McGonagall recited, and a small red-faced blond girl crept up, plopped herself into the chair, and had the sorting hat lowered on to her head. It was silent for a few moments, then ducked its brim in an imitation of a human nod.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" It called out decisively, and the girl took it off, and hopped off the stage. Harry clapped loudly with the rest of his table, as the new student joined their ranks.  
  
As they waited, "Ratz, Eric," became a Slytherin, and "Wilzincski, Erin," became a Ravenclaw. As more and more students filed off the stage, only one was left.   
  
"D'aussi, Thetis," McGonagall said loudly. A dark haired girl, taller by far than the other first year students, approached the stage, but tripped on the top step, and went sprawling face down on the wood. Several students chuckled, and there were loud barks of derisive laughter from the Slytherin table.  
  
"That's her, I bet," whispered Hermione excitedly in Harry's ear.  
  
"Who?" He turned a puzzled look on her.  
  
"The transfer student!" When Harry's face remained blank, she gave him an exasperated look. "You didn't hear? There's going to be a transfer student in seventh year this time, she came from some school west of here that closed. How rude," she finished, glaring at the Slytherins, then looking back at Thetis. The transfer student's face was bright red as she approached the stool, put a hand out to grab it, and hoisted herself slowly into a sitting position on top. McGonagall lowered the hat on to her head, and there was a long, long pause.  
  
Harry watched the girl, interested. He'd never heard of a transfer student before, there certainly hadn't been one at Hogwarts while he was there. She sat, very still, while the hat calculated. He wondered idly if it mattered to the hat how old she was, but thought that if Dumbledore had allowed it, it would certainly be all right. It sure was taking a long time, though...  
  
Everyone began whispering, creating a low buzz around the room. The hat had never taken this long to decide before, not even with Harry himself. Perhaps it really wouldn't allow an older girl? Perhaps she'd actually been kicked out of her old school, and wasn't really a wizard. Rumors flew around like biting insects, one for each moment the hat delayed.  
  
Finally, over the noise, the hat called "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry and Hermione joined in the cheering again, as the girl stepped quietly off the stool, and walked over to the table where they were sitting.   
  
"Welcome to Gryffindor," said Hermione warmly, reaching out to shake Thetis's hand. The girl paused a moment, lifting her hand slowly to grasp Hermione's, as if testing the air for something.   
  
"Thank you," she said, smiling back. "Could you tell me...where is an empty seat?" Harry looked puzzled.  
  
"There's...one right here, next to me," he said slowly. Couldn't she see it? It was in plain view, perhaps she didn't want to sit next to him for some reason. Maybe she'd heard rumors about him...there were all kinds going around, about how he was really destined to be some kind of dark wizard and all. Disgusted, he said, trying to smile, "I don't bite, really, no matter what you've heard."  
  
"Oh no," she said, shaking her head, "I..." she trailed off, turning her face towards him. "You are...Harry Potter? I recognize your voice." He stared at her, and then he saw it. Her eyes, pale brown, stared off somewhere in the distance, not at him, not seeing him, or anyone around him.   
  
"You're blind," he said, startled, and then wished that he hadn't. It sounded too blunt. "Ah, I'm sorry..."  
  
She shook her head, still smiling. "No, it's all right. Yes, I am blind...but I can see, in ways. I am at the Gryffindor table, I know that. I know you are Harry Potter...and here, this must be Hermione Granger. And now, I can find my seat." She walked around the table, over to the seat next to Harry, and sat down, turning a wry smile on him. "See?"  
  
He nodded, smiling back. "Yeah...sorry, anyway..."  
  
Hermione piped up. "What school did you come from? I didn't know there were any other wizarding schools in England. "  
  
Thetis nodded. "It was a small school, to teach ones who cannot see, or sometimes ones who cannot hear, how to use magic as well as all of you. We had to learn different ways." She reached out for an apple off the fruit basket in the center. "It was called BackGarden, and it was a really lovely place. But, there just were not enough students paying to support it." She munched into her apple, drumming her fingers on the table.  
  
Ron spoke up then, looking over from where he had been sitting in silence, next to Hermione. "You say they taught you different things...what kind of things?" He seemed to be showing genuine interest, and Thetis turned her head towards him, listening for a moment, then nodding again.  
  
"You are Ron Weasley, then?" Thetis asked. Ron looked startled.  
  
"Ah, yeah, yeah, that's me." He shot a look over at Harry. Harry cleared his throat.  
  
"Yeah...I don't' mean to sound rude or anything, Thetis, but...how do you know all this, about who we are and everything?" Harry asked, slowly, trying to phrase it politely.  
  
A wry look crept across Thetis's face. "Why, you're famous, all three of you, even at BackGarden. I've heard amazing stories...but of course, not all of them are true, I'm sure. Still...you defeated the Dark Lord...it's impossible not to know who you are. Really. Your voices...place you well, and your mannerisms. Yes, I know you well..." Ron went bright red, but looked very gratified, and Hermione hid her face in her napkin. Thetis grinned, and applied herself to the feast again.  
  
***  
  
  
Draco, sitting in the far back of the Slytherin table, watched as the new girl drifted over to sit by Harry Potter. Harry Potter...that stupid celebrity. He was sick of hearing songs sung of that moron's bravery and kindness, and he was tired of having to watch while people fawned over him. He hated Potter, hated him with a passion the like of which he hated nothing else. And yet, he never wanted him dead...not like that.  
  
He recalled his father's words as he'd gotten on the Hogwarts express. "Remember, Draco, the Potter boy, Harry Potter!" And he'd nodded, and moved off into the crowd. Draco found himself clenching his fists beneath the table, and carefully unclenched them, placing his hands flat on the table surface, and let out a long, slow breath. He had to be calm. He couldn't give himself away.  
  
Again, he looked over at the Gryffindor section of the room, at Granger and Weasley now, laughing at something Finnegan had said. "You have to watch them," his father had told him sternly. "You have to make sure they do not interfere. Be cautious...don't give them reason to suspect you. You have to 'befriend' them, become their ally, let yourself fall into the pattern of their lives. Only then will you be able to control them...and to lead Potter to our Lord. Do you understand?" He'd understood, understood far too well...  
  
"Dammit," he muttered angrily to himself, "I don't want to do this, I don't want him dead!" Pansy Parkinson, across from him, looked over.   
  
"Did you say something, Draco?"   
  
He shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "No...no, it's nothing. Don't worry about it." But I have to worry about it. I have to worry, and wonder, and avoid it, until there's nothing to do but face it head on. I can't kill Potter...I can't kill Granger or Weasley; I don't want to be a part of this anymore...father, why are you doing this to me? How do you justify it, how do you make it seem right in your mind?  
  
Or do you just not think of right and wrong, Draco silently asked his far away father. Do you just not care?  
  
**************  
  
  
When Percy awoke, he was propped up against the wall of the cold room, with Penelope nestled in his arms. "Penny," he tried to say, but moaned in pain as everything came flooding back to him. Every bone in his body throbbed dully, and he thought he might be bleeding from the forehead.  
  
Looking down into Penelope's quiet face, he saw that she was also haggard and tired, bleeding from several places along her arms, and her cheek. Percy ripped off a piece of his sleeve, and applied it to Penny's gashes, wiping away the blood, and pinching the skin over them. The shock of the pinch caused her to wake suddenly.   
  
"Aaah!" She sat straight up, then slumped back against him, clutching her arms in pain. "Percy..." she whispered, opening her grasping his hand against her cheek.  
  
"Shh, I'm here..." he held her tighter, not caring for his own pain, worried about the wounds he could not fix without his wand or something to staunch the blood. He looked around, found them still in the same place they'd been when he'd blacked out. He couldn't tell how much time had passed, couldn't even guess, as the horrible place had no windows, no clocks. He felt suspended somewhere, in a time frame all their own that dragged on, and on, and on. And the boy was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Penny," he whispered, "can you stand? We have to try and find a way out of here." Percy wasn't sure how fruitful that could be, seeing as the whole room seemed to be one ongoing line of the same wall, the same floor, the same dusty edged furniture. But they had to try.  
  
Penelope nodded, and Percy stood carefully, slowly helping her to her feet. She tripped, and he caught her, steadying her on her feet before turning, and taking a few cautious steps away from the wall. He and Penelope leant on each other for the support they needed, and for the comfort of knowing there was someone else there, alongside them. After only a few feet, that felt like an eternity of walking, they were exhausted, and had to pause to regain strength.  
  
"There's got to be...a way out," Penny whispered, leaning against a chair and breathing hard. "There has to be..."  
  
Percy was looking around, shaking his head. Something was wrong with this place, something beyond the normal ken of magic. "Penny...quiet for a moment," he said in a low voice, gazing fixedly at a large armchair at the far end of the room. It seemed to be drifting back and forth, nearer and farther.   
  
Blinking to clear the water from his eyes, Percy stared. It wasn't his imagination, the chair was moving, but now it was moving backwards, father and farther, until it couldn't be seen. "Penny-," he began, but stopped when he saw her face, terror written in her eyes as she stared at something behind them that Percy couldn't see.  
  
Turning, Percy saw that the ceiling seemed to be caving in, but in slow motion. Chunks were falling from it, unsettling the dust and causing it to drift up, forming an opaque cloud, obscuring everything from view. When the dust cleared, a stone wall stood where the pileup of wooden ceiling panels had fallen.  
  
Percy began to back away from it, slowly, and smacked hard into something behind him. Whirling around, he came face to face with another stone wall, identical to the one he was retreating from. "What-? Penny, what's going on?"   
  
Penny didn't respond. "Penelope?" Turning to look at her, Percy saw, to his horror, that his fiancée was gone. "PENNY?? Where are you?"  
  
From very far away, he heard a soft response to his cry. "Penny!" Rushing forward, he beat his fists against the wall, trying in vain to break it, to do something. He kept calling out Penelope's name, and after a while heard no more response. "Dammit!"   
  
Staring up towards the ceiling, Percy shook his fist at nothing and yelled, "Why are you doing this? What the hell do you want?" Slumping against the wall, Percy closed his eyes in defeat. "Penny..."  
  
As suddenly as they had appeared, the walls disappeared, melting away into the ground. Percy turned to rush away, and saw his tormentor, the green-robed boy, standing haughtily above him. "You called?" The boy asked, in his not-quite-whisper, smiling his awful sinuous smile.  
  
Percy glared up at him, shaking his sweaty, straggly hair out of his eyes. "What is this achieving? Why are you doing this? Leave Penelope alone...she's got nothing that could help you, she's innocent. Leave her alone..."  
  
The boy shook his head. "Ah, but she does have access to something that I want...as do you..." He inclined his head slightly. "Your sister, Mr. Weasley...your sister, Ginny...all you have to do is say the words, and you and your beloved Penelope will be free to go...is it really that hard? I think not. Come now, you're a smart man...the youngest ever minister of magic, even. A simple decision as this should be quite easy for you...come now..."  
  
Percy closed his eyes. "What has she ever done? Ginny...she's just an innocent little girl..."  
  
The boy nodded. "Yes, just an innocent little girl...there'd be no reason for me to harm her, I would do no such thing...I just need her to help me a little something...to contact someone I haven't seen in a long time...really, it wouldn't be so hard...just...bring her."  
  
Percy lay on the ground, saying nothing. For a moment, a flash of irritation flickered across the boy's face, but was quickly replaced by his usual foul smile.  
  
"Very well then...I see you need some more...ah...persuasion..."   
  
  
(This concludes Chapter Three.) 


End file.
